Touch

My friends do not understand why I make a beeline for their little children every time I see them. I tell them it's because I miss them but the real reason is the hugs. I can go for weeks or even months without touching another human being. When I see those little children, I run towards them to get my fix of human touch. The modern adage that we are more technologically connected yet humanly disconnected than ever before is so true.

Why is that?

A few years ago, I went to a funeral. I sat at the back of the church and wept for the person who passed away. I was surrounded by couples and families and sitting there, at the back of the church, weeping as if my heart would break, I don't think I ever felt more alone in my life. I wanted someone to hold me, to tell me that it was okay, that everything would be fine. I wanted to be comforted in my grief. No one did and then, just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, I felt someone's arms around me. It was a friend's husband. I fell into his arms and wept like a fool, grateful for the solace he offered at that particular time. At the back of my mind was the thought that God sent him to me to give me exactly what I needed at that time. Then, like now, I underestimated God. That is why I'm always so surprised when he comes up trumps for me, like that day at the funeral.

The leaves are falling. There is a distinct chill in the air as autumn fades into winter. I turn up my coat and turn my body inwards, cold wisps emanating from my mouth. I stand still for a moment watching busy people march confidently to their offices, decaff, soya lattes in one hand and laptop bags in another. Then I look up. I'm in front of my office. A deep breath and I'm in, another day has begun.